I was provided proof of life after death at the tender age of 5.
My great grandfather was an incredible man and a very doting elder. When I started kindergarten, he went into the hospital. My three older brothers were able to see him but the staff said I was too young. Even my baby sister was able to go into the room in my mother’s arms.
My father had the unfortunate task of taking me away from the room. I remember reaching out to my great-grandfather and he reaching out to me, both of us calling for each other. I was so angry at my father at that time. I understand now he was only being a man, doing the tough thing like men do, when he picked me up and hauled me away.
A few days later, he passed away.
I broke down at the wake and was not allowed to attend the funeral.
About a month passed and my great-grandfather’s headstone arrived. My grandparents took me to his gravesite at Roslyn Cemetery in New York. I talked to him, sitting beside his grave. My grandparents planted flowers.
I spent the day with my grandparents and slept over that night. During the early morning hours, I woke up because there was a very bright light streaming into the room. I went into my grandfather’s room and looked out the window. The backyard was dark and empty but when I went back into the room, it was still lit with this beautiful white light.
I woke my grandmother. She also went into my grandfather’s room, thinking someone was playing a trick.
“Is the light still there?’ she asked from the other room.
“Yes,” I replied.
She came back to the bedroom and and stated sincerely,”Do you know who this is? It’s papa, coming to say goodbye.”
The light got a bit brighter with her words. It was warm and soft and it washed over me, then faded away.
I knew it was my papa.
In the years that followed, I began to wonder if it was a dream, my fanciful imagination, a coping mechanism for a grieving child.
Neither she nor I spoke of it again until almost 30 years later, when I had moved to Texas and had my first child. She mentioned it in passing on the phone and remembered it exactly as I did.
I know, without question, that we have a soul, that God exists, that we live beyond this world, that there is a Heaven, and Christ, through his sacrifice, gave me the ability to live forever.
This Earth is just a pit-stop on the way to eternity. God’s charge is to do good to others, for others, and to live honorably even when others are dishonorable around you.
That, my friend, is one of the reasons I am not afraid of dying.
This knowledge has been an amazing blessing my entire life.
Some people live their lives without ever really knowing their purpose in the world. I am not one of them.
Thanks for relating your story. I have had a cardiac arrest. I don’t remember anything or anyone, but in the back of my mind I sense someone or something talking to me.
Your story brought me to tears.
Sadly, nothing like this has ever happened to me.
“Some people live their lives without ever really knowing their purpose in the world. I am not one of them.”
And some people live their lives neither knowing, nor caring, that they “have” a purpose in this life. You are blessed to know that truth.
I had something similar....
My father died in 1987 of brain cancer. I was 24 and had a very hard time letting go. About three weeks post funeral, I woke up from a dream of his funeral including the “open casket”. It was around 2:30 am, “Another dream of the same thing”, I thought. Then while lying in bed, I felt something I could not describe what was to come. It was a powerful feeling that something was about to happen.
The sounds and lights I am going to describe all happened at the same time. First a brilliant white light appeared in the room. Encompassing the entire room, it was the whitest light I ever saw. Then at the same time a humming sound mixed in with a “static” sound. The static sound was similar to the sound when you separate some clothes after it comes out of the dryer. My heart felt as it was pounding so hard I thought it was going to leave my chest.
As this was happening, I heard just five words. “Judi, don’t think about me”. This was 100% my dad’s voice. Then everything stopped. All the light and sounds vanished. I know I was awake and not a dream because I woke up my husband who was completely asleep. For those quick moments, I think my dad was trying to let me know he was okay.
36 years later, I know my dad’s visit was real. I think religions in general miss the mark of what really is important in terms of what God wants from us. The bottom line is to treat others with love. It is not about dogmas and doctrine.
That story brought tears to my eyes.